As Told Over Brunch is a home for intelligent discourse from the twenty-something perspective - so the stuff you gossip about over mimosas on Sunday morning or over takeout on your friend's couch when happy hour ends too early. We love chatting about our lives, whether it be the relationships we’re building (or destroying), lessons we've learned at work, struggles at school, growing pains we've felt, or even the food we’re talking over.

Geese are by far my least favorite animal. I’ve never had a good encounter with one of these animals and I, for one, hate them. Most people can agree that they are disgusting birds who litter yards and golf courses with feathers and bird crap. But aside from the mess they make, I also had quite a scarring altercation with one as a child.

When I was younger, my sisters, father and I would go fishing some weekends. These trips were always fun, and I looked forward to them, especially when my dad would let us stop for donuts on the way to the lake. I’m not sure how much fish we ever caught, because it was never about catching the biggest or most fish, but about having fun as a family. At this point in my life I hadn't begun my goose hatred, but one fateful day, things changed.

Being the immature child that I was, I hadn't developed a sense of respect for nature yet. On this one day, I decided that it would be a good idea to kick rocks at a goose that was near us while we fished. That was a big mistake on my part. The goose became enraged and started to come after me. As a kid, I didn’t have very many defenses, and I didn’t know what to do so I just ran away from it. The goose wouldn’t stop chasing me, and I was running out of options so I took refuge in the car.

As this whole scenario is panning out, from the safety of the car I can see my sister and father laughing at me, but of course not helping me. To them this was the highlight of the day. So now I'm stuck in the car with a goose outside, and it knows I’m in there. The goose is determined not to let a car stop it in its quest to get me back. It began slamming its beak into the car door trying to get at me.

This is the only point where my dad stepped in to help me, probably because his car was now in danger of being damaged. Who cares if Will is traumatized, but I can't let my car get damaged. So my dad came over with a fishing pole and scared the goose away.

I was now safe from the goose, but it was still a terrible experience. It was a dark day in my childhood that I don’t think I'll ever forget. Even if I were to forget it, I am always reminded of “the time the goose chased you” by my family, especially Sara, who to this day tells that story to anyone that will listen.

There was a lesson to take away, though:

DON'T MESS WITH GEESE.

Maybe now in my twenties, I might be able to take on a goose by myself, but I wouldn't count on it, seeing how nasty those things are. I now have respect for geese, but even more than respect, I have pure hate.